


The Only Way to Deal With an Enemy

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dubious Consent, Issues, M/M, Misplaced Friendliness, Obsession, Rare Pair, Set Just Pre-DBZ, Threats, Trauma Flashback, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 09:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: After his defeat at the World Tournament Piccolo is more determined than ever to avenge King Piccolo’s death by killing Goku. He still doesn’t know why Goku spared him, but he’s certain that this time one of them will end up dead. He expects blood and pain and the most difficult battle of his life. What he doesn’t expect is to be greeted like an old friend.





	The Only Way to Deal With an Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> A spiritual sequel to [Nemesis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997622), however it should work just as well as a stand-alone fic. As usual, many thanks to my editor who also helped establish the premise of this fic.

Piccolo was nearing the end of his meditation session. He’d been sitting on a bare patch of stone for the last few hours enjoying the sunlight on his skin. The next step in his training was his least favourite. Without opening his eyes, or altering the rhythm of his breath, he descended beneath the calm surface layers of his mind to reach for the memories. King Piccolo’s memories. He’d gotten better at leaving the useless information and feelings undisturbed while he searched for techniques, searched for _power_.

Strength was not enough. The World Tournament had proved that. He’d been stronger than Goku, but he’d lost because he hadn’t developed the same level of skill, of technique. A growl rose in the back of Piccolo’s throat as Goku crossed his mind and he forced the thought back down. It was dangerous thinking of his hated enemy when he was this deep in his own head. Stay focused. Look for skills, not for the context, feel the way the body moves and not the emotions.

He steadied himself, felt the ghost of movement in his limbs. It was easier replicating King Piccolo’s fighting style now that his body was bigger. Piccolo stood, keeping his eyes closed. His body moved through the series of stances like he was performing a strange kata. A feeling of _rightness_ flowed through him as he imitated the positions. It would be easier next time and the time after that, almost like his body _itself_ remembered the right movements. Channelling ki energy the way the memories showed him was harder, less instinctive, but he’d gotten better.

Piccolo fell still and opened his eyes. It took a moment for him to remember where he was and what he was doing. He had done nothing but train since his defeat at Goku’s hands. The memory of his defeat belonged to him and felt fresher and more important than even the skill memories. For some reason the most vivid moment was at the end, right after he’d regained consciousness. Goku had _done_ something and Piccolo’s injuries had been healed and the energy he’d lost during the fight had been restored. But he’d only realised that later. At the time, there had only been fear. He’d been helpless at the feet of his greatest enemy and he’d known he was about to die. 

But Goku hadn’t killed him. He’d killed King Piccolo but he hadn’t killed… him. The dissonance gave him a headache whenever he thought about it. One defeat and another defeat overlaid each other in his mind, blurring together and feeling wrong because they were so different. Piccolo forced himself to stop dwelling on it. It was as pointless as poking at a wound. It wouldn’t make things better. Besides, it was time. Piccolo’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a grin. It had been years since the World Tournament and he finally felt ready. Today he was going to face Goku again and finally avenge King Piccolo. His mistake had been making it a public spectacle. This time they would fight out in the wilderness, which was the terrain Piccolo was most comfortable in. There would be no distractions. 

It didn’t take Piccolo long to find Goku. One of the useful things he’d managed to teach himself was sensing energy. It wasn’t an exact technique, and he couldn’t use it to determine an opponent’s strength, but it let him find his enemy.

Goku was standing at the edge of a forest, facing an open plain. It was the perfect spot to fight and Piccolo felt his heart beating faster. On some level Goku must have known, must have felt that _this_ was the day. This fight was fated and Piccolo felt deep inside himself that only one of them was going to survive it. He landed lightly in front of Goku. He’d lived out this moment in his head countless times, he’d _dreamed_ of the surge of violence and hate between them. He wanted Goku’s blood on his hands. He wanted to hear him growl and snarl and scream. 

‘Goku,’ Piccolo greeted, baring his fangs in a fierce smile.

‘Hi, buddy!’ Goku said. He gave a short laugh. ‘Wow, it’s been a long time since we saw each other, huh?’

Piccolo stared. He… this was… ‘What.’ This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

‘Yeah, I know. So four years, five years? What do you think?’

Piccolo rallied. ‘Four years, eight months and six days. I have been training non-stop since then.’

Goku…. smiled at him. ‘That’s great and it’s the only way to get better. What are your favourite training techniques?’

Piccolo stared at his nemesis. Goku’s smile broadened as the silence stretched. The memory of Piccolo’s defeat was suddenly bright and clear in his mind. Being beaten, being spared, Goku’s calm assurance. ‘I’ve been training to defeat you! I’m going to kill you for what you did to King Piccolo and then I’m going to destroy the world!’ 

Goku laughed again. ‘I remember when you used to say that kind of stuff. Nearly five years? Things sure do change.’

‘Nothing has changed!’ Piccolo snarled. The last time he’d confronted Goku all those years ago, Goku had _understood_. He’d stood proud and unyielding and _righteous_ , despite being a _murderer_. He’d demanded that Piccolo release Kami, he’d known that he was the only thing that stood in the path of Piccolo’s plans for world domination. What was going _on_? 

Piccolo took a step forward, braced for a sudden attack. _Hoping_ for a sudden attack. Despite the uncertainty Piccolo still felt the unmistakable pull of his foe, the need to get closer. ‘You’re still the only one that can stop me and if you don’t, I’ll destroy everything you care about once I’m finished with you.’

Goku tilted his head to one side, looking a little puzzled. ‘I mean, I’m always happy to spar if that’s what you want. I don’t know how good a partner I’ll be though, I haven’t been training as hard as you have, by the sound of it.’

If it was true, if Goku hadn’t spent every waking moment training, there was no way he could stand against Piccolo now. But if it was true, where was his _fear_? Why was he being _friendly_? It was like they were having two completely different conversations. 

Piccolo growled and shot a blast of ki off to the side, vaporising a pile of stones. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’ he demanded. 

Goku looked over at the patch of smoking grass as if watching for an oncoming attack wasn’t the least bit important. He whistled. ‘Wow, impressive! That blast’s a lot narrower than what I can do. Can you explain the technique?’

Piccolo felt a smug smile curling his lips. It had taken him months to master the technique of wielding his power like that. It was beyond anything King Piccolo had been capable of. ‘It’s a matter of concentrating the ki at the moment of release–’ Piccolo cut himself off abruptly and scowled. He wasn’t here to explain his techniques. He wasn’t here for his enemy’s approval. ‘Stop it!’ he snarled.

Goku cocked his head to one side. ‘Okay, you wanted to spar, right? But you have to promise to show me that technique after.’

Piccolo opened and closed his mouth. ‘No I don’t!’ he finally managed to say.

‘Aw, come on. I’ll show you one of mine. It’s only fair.’

What _was_ this? ‘I’m threatening you! You, your friends, your _world_. Don’t you _care_?’

Goku shrugged. ‘I don’t find it threatening that you’ve gotten stronger. It’s just not worth measuring yourself against someone else, all that matters is doing your best and improving at your own pace. That’s what martial arts is all about.’ Then Goku reached out and put his hand on Piccolo’s shoulder. It happened before Piccolo could react, with no change in his stance to indicate hostility. He didn’t take advantage of Piccolo’s carelessness, just gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before letting go again. The contact sent a strange pulse of warmth through Piccolo and his breath caught. Goku’s smile was friendly, with maybe just a hint of sadness to it.

Piccolo stepped back, away from the touch, away from Goku, and away from whatever had gone wrong with this situation. It was hard holding onto his rage in the face of Goku’s smile. Piccolo’s training had involved a lot of careful meditation to help him distinguish the parts of himself that came from King Piccolo and the parts that… weren’t that. The wild emotions that had defined his existence and fuelled his thirst for vengeance got in the way of the skills that he needed to _win_. So he’d learned to find the edges between his progenitor and himself.

The pit of deep, hostile feeling was still there, tinged with the absolute certainty of Goku’s importance. Fighting and training were still deeply fulfilling too, and every incremental gain led Piccolo one step further to his ultimate purpose. But he’d also discovered doubt where there had never been doubt before and it gnawed at him. 

Goku’s smiled had slipped a bit when Piccolo had stepped back. ‘Hey, are you okay?’ he asked. 

Piccolo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, even though every instinct was screaming at him not drop his guard like that. He _felt_ Goku taking a step forward and his eyes snapped open and he snarled. Goku was completely unfazed. ‘You’re my enemy. You murdered King Piccolo. You deserve to suffer and die.’ The words sounded hollow to his own ears. He couldn’t _stand_ this. He surged forward and wrapped a hand around Goku’s throat. 

Goku let him, didn’t even blink. He was at Piccolo’s mercy, helpless and – 

_Lying on his back, in the dirt. Every part of him aching from the gruelling fight against his enemy. His ki was depleted, even standing would be too much effort. There were voices above him, arguing and angry and one clear voice that had haunted Piccolo day and night. He couldn’t parse the words, couldn’t even open his eyes. Footsteps approached. Piccolo knew what was coming. His death was still fresh in mind, the feeling of Goku tearing through his body, the unbearable pain, the last moment when he had created an heir to carry on, to avenge him._

_Then something in his mouth and his reflexive swallow. Strength coursing through his body as his ki flared back to its usual intensity. The pain fading to nothing and the sheer unadulterated_ relief _of that was the best thing he’d ever felt. His eyes had snapped open and there was Goku standing over him with a smile that was almost sad. Piccolo had scrambled backward in the dirt like some crawling animal, fear obliterating any thought in his head. He was dead, he had lost, he was going to hurt and die and –_

_Goku was just standing there, arms by his side, not threatening, not moving. Piccolo got to his feet, ruthlessly forcing himself to breath normally. He’d fled, couldn’t even remember what he’d said as he’d flown off, couldn’t remember anything with fear pounding through his body. But he remembered that smile, tinged with sadness, remembered the way Goku had just watched him, had just let him go…_

Piccolo had his hand around Goku’s throat, but he was the one who was shaking. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Goku’s face, that expression. Goku laid his hand over Piccolo’s. Piccolo didn’t flinch, but it was a near thing. They were standing so close. When had they gotten so close? Goku’s hand was warm and when he leaned forward to eliminate that final gap between them, Piccolo let it happen. 

Goku’s lips pressed against his and Piccolo knew what this was. He didn’t bite, though he could have, and instead he returned the kiss. His hand fell from Goku’s throat and came to rest on his shoulder. Piccolo gave it a brief squeeze, echoing Goku’s initial contact. It felt right.

Goku made a soft noise in response and his tongue flicked out briefly. Piccolo froze for a moment at the unexpected sensation before pushing harder into the kiss. His other hand came up to grip Goku’s other shoulder. His body tensed as heavily drilled manoeuvres flickered in his mind. Piccolo knew how to turn this into a throw, into a pin. Instead he just held on, like Goku was the only point of certainty in this wild, unstable situation. 

One of Goku’s hands slid down the front of Piccolo’s gi and tugged at his belt. The heat of his hand was muted through the cloth and there was no way for him to reach skin with the way Piccolo had designed his outfit. With a frustrated growl, Piccolo let go of Goku long enough to tear his own clothes. It would be easy to remake them later. 

Goku’s smile sharpened in response and it almost, _almost_ looked like the expression Piccolo had wanted back at the beginning, back when this was going to be their last fight. Then Goku’s hands slid down the bare skin of Piccolo’s torso. The contrast of that dragging sensation over his more and less armoured patches refocused his attention. 

Not to be outdone, Piccolo reached for Goku’s belt and was pleased to find that his gi was in two separate pieces. Goku’s flesh was smooth and very warm beneath Piccolo’s hands. His claws pricked at that unarmoured skin and he froze again. The desire to dig his claws in and tear rose up fast and hard, nearly overwhelming him. His desire, King Piccolo’s, it was too hard to tell, everything was blurring together. He hadn’t realised he was growling until Goku pressed another kiss to the corner of his snarling mouth. 

Goku’s hands trailed down to Piccolo’s hips, heat following in their wake. ‘Hey, what do you like?’ Goku asked, his fingers brushing gently toward the inside of Piccolo’s thigh. 

Piccolo shuddered, a completely different set of desires crashing over him and combining in an unsettling way with the push for violence. What did he like? Mostly he liked not clawing himself up when he touched himself. It was too easy to get overexcited in the heat of the moment and have his hand slip against slick, sensitive flesh. Goku’s claws were blunt and even, soft, like the rest of him. Weak. Maybe that was exactly what Piccolo wanted right now. 

Rather than admit to that he wrapped a hand around Goku’s wrist and guided him toward the ache between his legs. ‘Gently,’ he said, staring hard into Goku’s eyes. 

Goku’s lips quirked up and he nodded. ‘Yeah, me too,’ he said. His fingers prodded carefully at Piccolo’s flesh, feeling out the shape of his slick cock and the slit just below it. Those memories were some of the most distant and abstract for Piccolo. It was only by interacting with his own body later on that he’d… understood. 

Goku’s touch was electric. It was completely different from touching himself. The threat of his own claws was completely irrelevant and for some reason it didn’t feel dangerous to have Goku handling even his most sensitive parts. It was that sad smile, the softness in Goku’s expression. Piccolo shivered as pleasure pulsed low in his body. It took him a long moment to remember what Goku had said: ‘me too’. He wasn’t looking for something harsh or painful either and hadn’t even hesitated to admit it.

Piccolo was breathing heavily when he reached into Goku’s pants, past his belt. He recoiled slightly when his hand brushed surprisingly hard flesh. It was dry, but strangely hot. Piccolo paused the barest instant before touching it again. Well, they looked different enough that it wasn’t that strange for Goku to have something different between his legs. He didn’t seem to have a slit either, just some extra dangling bits. There was a hint of slickness at the tip of his misshapen cock and Piccolo swirled it around curiously with his thumb. Goku shivered violently at the touch and pressed himself against Piccolo’s hand. Being responsible for that reaction felt like power.

Piccolo bared his teeth and for once he didn’t mean it as a threat. ‘What do you like?’ 

Goku’s expression slipped and Piccolo wasn’t sure why. ‘I, uh, like friction. Wrapping your hand around it and going up and down. Gently,’ he added quickly. 

Piccolo nodded, letting himself be guided. Goku made a very interesting noise low in his throat and his lips found Piccolo’s again. He also got bolder where he was touching Piccolo and he also wrapped a hand around Piccolo’s cock.

Piccolo made a frustrated noise and pulled back from the kiss to speak. ‘No, just squeeze and relax, don’t try that stupid up and down thing.’ 

‘Okay,’ Goku said breathlessly and did it right, each pulse of pressure sparking down Piccolo’s nerves. He groaned and pressed forward into another kiss to muffle the sound. His fangs caught on the edge of Goku’s lip and pierced the skin. The taste of blood was sudden and visceral and Piccolo’s pulse kicked up. Goku yelped as Piccolo’s grip tightened unconsciously. Spilling blood was the reason Piccolo had turned up here in the first place. What was he doing? A sudden wave of anger washed over him. He didn’t care about the sound of Goku’s moans. He’d come here for screams of rage and pain. 

Piccolo’s breath hissed between his clenched teeth. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of Goku’s fingers between his legs, couldn’t forget about the grip he had around his enemy’s cock. In that moment he realised that this wouldn’t turn into the battle he’d been craving, that this had shifted entirely before he’d even noticed. ‘I hate you,’ he spat.

Goku’s expression was impossible to read as he stared into Piccolo’s eyes. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. And it felt like maybe he understood this time, knew what Piccolo was trying to say in a way he simply _hadn’t_ earlier. The pit of feelings deep inside Piccolo seethed, but it was too much of a complex mess to even make sense. It was so much easier to just focus on his body and the slick pressure of Goku’s hand. 

Piccolo eased his own grip around Goku, eliciting a relieved sigh. Some of the tension in Goku’s body eased and he leaned forward to rest his head against Piccolo’s shoulder. That felt nicer than it had any right to be. ‘Lower,’ Piccolo said. ‘Just… where the slit is, touch me there,’ he instructed. It was something he seldom risked with his claws, but if he was getting this from Goku instead of a fight, then he was going to enjoy it.

‘Like this?’ asked Goku. His fingers grazed the slit beneath Piccolo’s cock and pressed the tip of his finger _in_. It was so much more intense than anything he’d felt before, like a deep ache, but good. 

Piccolo made a noise he hadn’t even known he was capable of making. He squeezed Goku again, before remembering himself and lightening his touch. ‘Yes, like that,’ Piccolo managed to choke out. 

Goku’s fingers pressed deeper and Piccolo rocked into the touch. Those blunt claws didn’t hurt at all and the novel sensation was bringing him right to the edge. He bit down on his own lip to stop himself from saying anything else. He _wanted_ with a ferocity beyond anything sane. 

The heat in Piccolo’s body tightened to the point of near pain and the subsequent wash of pleasure was enough to destroy his thoughts completely. He simply felt, the pleasure and relief cleansing in their intensity. Goku was trembling in front of him, his strange cock pulsing in Piccolo’s hand. Piccolo started touching him again with the up and down motion he seemed to like. It didn’t take long until Goku was clutching at him and his cock released a concerning amount of slick. 

Piccolo withdrew his hand and wiped it against Goku’s gi. He stepped back and simply stared at his enemy for a long moment. Goku gave him a shaky grin and scratched at the back of his head. Piccolo had no idea what to do or say. He still wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gotten to this point and it looked like Goku was just as uncertain. 

Piccolo remade his clothes with a burst of ki energy to give himself something to do. He glanced over at Goku one last time, turning his options over in his head, wondering if there was anything to say, wondering if there was anything he _could_ say. ‘This isn’t over,’ he finally said.

Goku smiled brightly. ‘Well, yeah, we didn’t even end up sparring in the end. You don’t need to wait a full four years next time.’

Piccolo scowled. There was nothing left for him here. At least this time he was flying away from Goku on his own terms.

///

Goku watched Piccolo fly off and only once the sky was clear again, did he let himself turn around. He was shaking. He let out a long breath and made his way to the edge of the forest. Chi-Chi stepped out from behind a tree and he frowned at her in concern. ‘You shouldn't have been here, I told you that Piccolo was coming for me and that it wasn’t safe.’ Goku had easily recognised Piccolo’s overwhelming ki. He’d known this was the day that Piccolo had finally returned for a rematch. That’s why he’d chosen this place, away from anyone who could have been hurt.

‘Goku, I love you, but I wasn’t going to stand aside if he attacked you. You're my husband.’

‘Well, I’m just glad my plan worked.’

‘What was the plan, exactly? You said you had one, but you wouldn’t tell me what it was.’

‘Yeah. I figured if I just acted like we were friends Piccolo would be too confused to attack me.’ He grinned at Chi-Chi, but he was still shaking a bit so he leaned against the nearest tree. That was better. He didn’t feel like he might fall over quite so much.

Chi-Chi stared at him. ‘That… that’s not a plan!’

‘But it worked! He definitely wanted to kill me, but we barely even fought.’ Goku had to close his eyes for a moment as the view of the forest blurred out of focus for a moment. Something about the idea of someone trying to kill him, who hated him enough that that was the _goal_ , made him feel queasy, like he’d eaten something bad. When he opened his eyes again, Chi-Chi looked worried.

She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, yeah I think so. I – he’s really strong now and I don’t know if I could have won again. He’s been training harder than I have. But I don’t think he’s the same person as King Piccolo. He seems all… tangled up with himself.’

‘I… saw some of what happened out there. Are you… _are_ you okay? After what he… did.’

‘Huh? Oh, the sex? Nah, that was fine. It was a good distraction.’ 

Chi-Chi was giving him a very worried look and patted his shoulder. It was kind of nice. ‘Well… well okay. I’m just glad you’re okay.’

Goku gave her a smile that only wobbled a little bit. The sex _had_ been kind of fun, but he just wished there hadn’t been so much… anger. Sex was fun because it made people happy. Goku didn’t know if Piccolo was ever happy. Maybe that was why he wanted to… wanted to _hurt_ people so much. Goku shuddered. Piccolo hadn’t really hurt him, hadn’t had the chance to hurt anyone. That was what was important. 

‘Maybe we should go home now?’ Goku suggested. ‘I’m sure your dad’s had enough babysitting for one day. Gohan can be a handful.’ He tried to smile again and it felt more natural this time. He was so relieved nothing bad had happened. He knew what it was like when his grandfather had died. He didn’t want Gohan to have to deal with anything like that happening to him. It looked like he’d have to go back to training now. He had a lot of catching up to do if he wanted to stand firm against someone like Piccolo. Who knew if a distraction would work next time? Goku’s smile faltered at the thought, but he forced it back. He didn’t like to worry.


End file.
